


Beautiful Things

by ForAllLove



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bofur is the best, Craic-Ship, I love you Bofur, Interracial Relationship, Interspecies, M/M, Romance, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-12
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-29 01:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForAllLove/pseuds/ForAllLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur tells of the beautiful things he's found in quiet moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Things

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt from [Leaper182](http://archiveofourown.org/users/leaper182).

When I was a lad, I found a wee sapphire in the mine. I didn’t know what it was; I picked it up because I liked its colour. Only when I toyed with it later did another miner see and tell me its value. I sold it to a jeweller, and my family ate well for a week, but it pained me to part with such a pretty thing. It was nothing like the gems plucked from the night sky to adorn fine ladies’ beards. It was a plain little stone, blue-grey like a storm cloud, but I thought it beautiful.

* * *

When I grew older and my feet turned to wandering, I walked once to the coast. The ocean frightened me, all vast, empty space, but I spent some days near the Grey Havens watching it breathe. One afternoon, when clouds gathered low over the waves, blue-grey above a darkened sea, I watched a storm unfold. I sat through the rain to find the song in the cries of wind and water, and I thought it beautiful.

* * *

When I settled at last in a home of my own, it was with a hobbit in my arms. Just as I’d given up hoping there’d be a place for me, I tumbled headlong into belonging, and I’d not have it different. Odd to look at though we may be, we’ve eased together so that I cannot remember life alone. My little Bilbo is strong and steady; he holds me captive with no more than his eyes, blue-grey with feelings I scarcely dare name. Sometimes I lie beside him and wait until he wakes, so that I might watch those eyes sparkle in delight at the sight of me, a peasant to a prince and beloved all the same. I think him beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> It seems Bofur has a favourite colour...


End file.
